It's been a week of poetry chez moi. I forced my sixth graders to memorize Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll (we originally read it as an exercise in parts of speech). They moaned and groaned and tried to find "brillig" in the dictionary. "What is a mome rath?" In the end they loved it and could be found reciting it to each other at recess. They want to memorize another one- with the stipulation that it make sense.
It is snowing again in Minnesota, and I feel like peonies will never flower this year. I love the juxtaposition of the images in this poem. I didn't expect the broken cake at the end.
Pink and White
and when I saw them from the bus window
yesterday, tumbled and heavy along
a fence, fully exploded, nodding
at the ground, hanging their heads but not
yet spoiled, I remembered
a summer (maybe seven years
ago, or was it ten?) I wasn't sure
our love would come again
and here I am, almost
kissing the grass like that,
bursting and rich, cracked
all over like broken cake-
makes you cry but still sweet
2 comments:
Oh.
Broken cake.
The one you get out of the pan and have to glue together with frosting... What sad imagery to describe a person!
1. Huzzah for your sixth graders memorizing Jabberwocky and then wanting more memorization. Huzzah for you standing firm, knowing the good that would come of it all.
2. Peonies. The rich, heady perfume of them. They do seem a long way away. Maybe you should focus on crocuses first. Take things one step at a time!
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